


physical

by ootn



Series: could you love me? [1]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: (still lmao), Denial of Feelings, Dominance Fighting, Hate Sex, M/M, No Aftercare, Rimming, Sexual Content, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:47:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24209950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ootn/pseuds/ootn
Summary: sex with no strings attached is a lot easier when nobody has feelings.
Relationships: Lee Jeno/Na Jaemin
Series: could you love me? [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1724893
Comments: 16
Kudos: 153





	physical

The second Jeno walks into his apartment, Jaemin attacks. “I fucking despise you,” he spits, and Jeno just looks at him, blinking slowly. He’s barely even _inside_ , the door is only now slamming shut behind him, and he hasn’t even taken his shoes off. And yet, Jaemin is seething. It’s like he’s trying to establish dominance in his own home, and well, Jeno supposes he can’t blame him. He’s not too fond of Jaemin either. At least, that’s what he tells himself.

Jeno doesn’t give him the pleasure of a response, not yet. He kicks off his shoes and pulls his hoodie off, intentionally tugging his shirt up a little too, giving Jaemin something to look at. When he gets his hoodie off, he tosses it onto Jaemin’s couch and he knows when he turns to look at Jaemin that he’s _pissed_. He obviously hates watching Jeno make himself at home, and Jeno tries to bite back the smug smile that’s playing on his lips.

Jaemin is just standing there, arms crossed, eyes shooting daggers at Jeno from the middle of his living room, and Jeno regards him silently. Jaemin looks like he wants to say something, but he doesn’t, so Jeno slowly approaches him. He pauses, very obviously looking him up and down, before intruding intentionally on Jaemin’s personal space. He gets way too close and personal on purpose, all up in Jaemin’s face. Jaemin flinches, ever so slightly, but he doesn’t back down, and Jeno has to give him credit for that.

“I hate you too,” Jeno says, low and a little husky, eyes locked with Jaemin’s, who actually looks like he’s going to kill Jeno with his bare hands. Their noses are practically touching, and Jeno can hear the way Jaemin’s breathing has picked up, can pick up on the way his chest is rising and lowering faster than before. 

Jeno smirks. And then he leans a centimeter forward, biting on Jaemin’s bottom lip and pulling, just a little. Their lips never touch. It’s all Jaemin needs. 

“Bastard,” Jaemin hisses, but he pushes his hands up Jeno’s shirt and latches onto his neck immediately. It makes Jeno feel a little woozy, almost, the combined sensation of Jaemin feeling him up and biting on his neck, and he knows he needs to snap out of it. He’ll be damned if this goes entirely Jaemin’s way.

“You like my body that much, huh?” Jeno asks, and Jaemin pulls away to give him another death glare.

“Who said that?”

“Your hands,” Jeno responds, even though it was a rhetorical question, and he gathers both of Jaemin’s wrists in his hand, gingerly pulling them out from under his shirt. 

“My hands are looking for something to do, since _you’re_ not doing shit,” Jaemin shoots back at him, but it’s a pathetic excuse and they both know it. Regardless, Jeno decides to humor him. Just a little. 

“Okay, then what would you like me to do?” he asks, arching an eyebrow, and Jaemin just blinks at him. 

“I—”

“That’s what I thought,” Jeno says. “You have five second to take me to your bedroom or I’ll fuck you right here.”

Jaemin scowls at him, and he tugs his wrists back toward himself but Jeno won’t release him. “Okay, one,” he says, every word laced with venom, “You’re not in charge here, and two, I wouldn’t be so sure that I’m gonna let you fuck me.”

“I’m sure,” Jeno says lightly, and then he lets go of Jaemin’s arms. Jaemin spins on his heel, because he has nothing to say to that, and Jeno follows him without a second thought. They’re in Jaemin’s bed before Jeno even knows what’s happening, and now Jaemin is on top of him, pulling Jeno’s shirt off, and Jeno is letting him, for some reason. Jaemin pauses, looking Jeno up and down, or at least from his head to where Jaemin’s sitting in his lap, very obviously admiring his abs.

“You can touch them,” Jeno teases, and Jaemin turns pink. 

“I’d rather not,” he sniffs, not meeting Jeno’s eyes, “They’re not… Doing it for me, sorry, I’m not like those other girls.”

Jeno actually laughs, but he lets Jaemin believe what he wants, because he knows the truth. And sure enough, still not looking him in the eye, Jaemin splays his hands across Jeno’s abdomen. Jeno flexes just to antagonize him and Jaemin pretends he doesn’t notice.

Jeno thinks it's time he has some fun, so he sits up, which nearly makes Jaemin fall off of him. But it doesn’t, it just startles him, and while he’s still trying to regain his bearings Jeno flips them over so that _he’s_ on top of Jaemin now. 

“Jeno—” Jaemin starts, but he shuts up when Jeno starts to mouth at his jaw. He moves higher, getting closer and closer to Jaemin’s lips, and that’s when Jaemin pushes him away, placing his hands flat on Jeno’s chest and giving him yet another killer stare. “Rule number _one_ ,” he says icily, “Do _not_ fucking kiss me. Got it?”

Jeno shrugs. “If that’s what you want,” he says, and Jaemin rolls his eyes, so Jeno slips one more comment in before reattaching his mouth to Jaemin’s skin. “I guess I’ll have to show you what my tongue can do in other ways.” Jaemin freezes under him and he can feel it, and he smiles against Jaemin’s neck before kissing it lightly. Jaemin said no kissing, but he didn’t specify _where_ , and he doesn’t do anything when Jeno presses his lips to his skin again so Jeno just keeps on doing it. “No kissing on the lips, you meant,” Jeno says, muffled because he can’t be bothered to lift his head, which is a blessing in disguise for Jaemin because it saves him the humiliation of Jeno seeing him blush again. 

Jeno moves again, trailing his lips down Jaemin’s sternum, down his abdomen, pressing a hand to the middle of his chest to get him to stay still when he gets squirmy. “Relax,” Jeno exhales, and Jaemin just shudders. 

Jaemin doesn’t look at him as he undoes his own jeans, and Jeno helps him tug them down. When Jaemin slips his fingers past the waistband of his boxers, finally looking Jeno in the eye, Jeno swears under his breath and gently pushes Jaemin’s fingers away, instead linking his thumbs in the exact spots that Jaemin’s were before. He pulls Jaemin’s underwear down tortuously slow, exposing just a few more inches of Jaemin’s skin, not quite freeing his cock yet. Jaemin is silent, but Jeno can tell he’s anxious to get his boxers off by the way he’s twitching on the bed. He’s feeling cruel, feeling selfish, so he presses his lips to Jaemin’s skin again, this time ghosting over his hip bones and trailing down, _dangerously_ close to where Jaemin wants them to be. 

He hates to admit it, but Jeno wants him to _beg,_ wants Jaemin to say please and thank you, wants to hear his desperation. But he knows it’s not happening, not now and probably not ever. Maybe in the future, maybe if Jaemin lets him come back. But now, he knows Jaemin would kick Jeno out into the street before they’ve even finished if Jeno tried to get him to so much as ask for something. So he resigns himself, for now.

Finally, finally, Jeno pulls Jaemin’s boxers off, exposing him fully, and he hears the way Jaemin’s breath catches in his throat. Jeno places his hands on either of Jaemin’s thighs, and to his surprise, Jaemin lets his legs fall open easily. Jeno makes eye contact again, raising his eyebrows mockingly, and Jaemin just sneers at him. “What?” he asks, sounding way too cocky for someone who just spread their legs without a fight for their supposed mortal enemy, and Jeno just shakes his head. He situates himself between Jaemin’s thighs, lowering his face, and he feels the way that Jaemin’s legs tense around him. 

“Relax,” Jeno says again, like he doesn’t have his face inches away from Jaemin’s hole, like Jaemin isn’t absolutely shaking underneath him. 

“Is this okay?” Jeno raises his head once more, searching for approval on Jaemin’s face, and Jaemin gives him a pained look. Jeno knows that Jaemin doesn’t _want_ to say it’s okay, doesn’t want to give Jeno any verbal confirmation that he _does_ want this, but Jeno won’t continue without it. He knows Jaemin probably thinks he’s asking just to be an ass, just to rub it in that he holds something over him, but none of that matters to Jeno. He just needs to know that Jaemin’s okay with _this,_ with everything, because he would never do anything if he thought Jaemin wanted him to stop. 

“Jaemin,” he says, and he watches something pass over Jaemin’s eyes as he registers the sincerity of Jeno’s tone, “I’m not going to touch you if you don’t want me to. You can say no. I’m not asking to be a dick, just, I need you to know that I won’t—” He cuts himself off with a sigh, because Jaemin looks like he wants to _die_ , and this whole thing is making this feel way more intimate than this is supposed to be. Not that asking for consent is _intimate_ , because it’s _necessary_ , but the way that he’s looking at Jaemin, and the way Jaemin is looking at him—

“It’s okay, Jeno,” Jaemin says quietly, finally, and Jeno feels like he should say something, do something, but he knows Jaemin doesn’t want that and so he doesn’t say anything, just lowers his face once again. He hesitates for a split second, reconsidering everything, reconsidering Jaemin, reconsidering _this_ — His head is spinning, and he can’t think straight, but he wants this, Jaemin wants this too, but nothing about this feels right, the hate and the anger and the resentment— Everything hurts for some reason, everything just _sucks_ , because he doesn’t really hate Jaemin, but Jaemin hates him, and he hates to admit it, but he wants Jaemin— But not like this. 

Somehow, he manages to push everything aside and just stick his tongue in Jaemin’s hole, trying desperately to force all these unwanted _feelings_ to disappear and give way to his horniness. If they do this again, Jeno definitely needs to get in his proper headspace beforehand. He certainly doesn’t need _this_.

Jaemin’s reaction is immediate and loud, whining and grabbing onto Jeno’s hair without seeming to realize he’s doing it. Jeno continues, fucking his tongue into Jaemin with vigor, letting Jaemin melt as his tongue flicks over his walls. He grazes his teeth over Jaemin’s rim and Jaemin gasps, tugging on Jeno’s hair a little too hard, but he likes it. 

He pulls away from Jaemin eventually, which is a bit difficult considering how hard Jaemin’s holding onto his head, but he manages it and he sits back up on his knees. Jaemin looks fucked out already, and it’s doing things to Jeno’s head, so he immediately latches onto Jaemin’s neck again. Jaemin’s neck is just so _perfect_ , and Jeno wants nothing more than to mark it up, mark it as his own. _Jaemin’s not yours_ , he reminds himself, but that just makes him even more eager to suck a hickey below the corner of Jaemin’s jaw, so he does.

“Do you want to prep yourself, or do you want me to do it?” Jeno asks in between nipping at the soft skin under Jaemin’s jawline, because he’s impatient and they’re in bed for a reason and he’s not gonna stop being forward anytime soon. Jaemin turns so red that Jeno can _feel_ how warm he is, but he’s feeling generous so he spares him the embarrassment. 

“I’ll do it,” Jaemin says eventually, glowering at him, and Jeno pretends he doesn’t feel the way his stomach turns just a little. Jeno doesn’t say anything, just licks sloppily across Jaemin’s skin a little while longer while Jaemin rummages around in his bedside table for the lube. When he gets it, he gives Jeno a pointed look, and then he pulls one of his knees up, using it to push against Jeno’s stomach and get him off of him.

Jeno rolls lazily onto his back, next to Jaemin, close but not touching. He props himself up onto an elbow when he hears Jaemin open the lube, turning toward him. 

“What?” Jaemin asks again, slicking his fingers up with lube. It _almost_ sounds like a whine, but not quite.

“Just watching you get yourself ready for me,” Jeno says, making his best attempt at an unbothered tone, and Jaemin rolls his eyes for what feels like the zillionth time tonight.

“You’re nothing special, Lee Jeno,” Jaemin says, and with that he pushes two fingers inside himself at once. He arches his back, and he gasps, and Jeno wonders what it would be like to watch Jaemin get wrecked over _his_ fingers, instead. But he’ll make do with watching Jaemin finger-fuck himself, grinding his hips down on his own fingers and letting out breathy, barely-there moans.

“You should add another,” Jeno says, smirking, and he’s half serious, half being an asshole, and Jaemin scowls. 

“I’m sure, Jeno,” Jaemin replies, voice dripping with sarcasm, but he slides another finger inside himself nonetheless. It surprises Jeno, how easily Jaemin takes it, and it must show on his face because Jaemin gives him a sideways look and a half-smile. “I told you, you’re nothing special,” he says, and he doesn’t wait to see Jeno’s reaction before turning away again.

And Jeno is tired of waiting, and he’s _hard_ , growing harder with every squelch of the lube from Jaemin working his fingers deep inside himself, with every soft noise Jaemin makes when he brushes over his walls. He climbs out of bed momentarily, undressing himself the rest of the way, tossing his jeans and boxers into a pile with his shirt from before. Jaemin doesn’t take his eyes off of Jeno, and Jeno looks hard for _anything_ in Jaemin’s eyes, a spark of _something_ , but his expression is blank and lackluster as he watches Jeno get back into bed, situating himself over Jaemin and pulling his fingers out of his ass. For some reason, Jaemin allows him to do this without a fight, wiping his fingers lazily on the comforter and meeting Jeno’s gaze, eyes lidded already. 

“You sure you’re ready for me?” Jaemin asks, raising an eyebrow suggestively, and Jeno lines himself up to Jaemin’s entrance.

“Are you ready for _me_?” Jeno asks in response, and Jaemin opens his mouth again, but not to protest. To lay down another rule:

“Don’t you dare fucking cum inside me, Jeno,” Jaemin says, and he lets his fingers dance across Jeno’s abs, giving him a hard stare. 

“As you wish,” Jeno says lowly, and with that he pushes into Jaemin with one thrust.

Jaemin whines at the feeling of being filled so abruptly, and Jeno can’t help but ask “Are you okay?” even though he himself is feeling light headed from how tight Jaemin is around him. Jaemin gives him a withering glare, and he remembers _he’s not supposed to ask that,_ so he doesn’t wait for a response. 

Jeno is tentative at first, mainly because he thinks he’ll cum immediately if he doesn’t take this slow— He’s never fucked _anybody_ this tight, but it’s not like he’d ever tell Jaemin that. He experiments with a few harsh, delicately aimed thrusts, and Jaemin lets out some noises Jeno knows he’s embarrassed by. So Jeno does it again, and again, and again, each time making Jaemin a little bit louder.

“Aren’t you supposed to be mocking me?” Jeno asks, and Jaemin grunts. 

“Not worth the energy,” Jaemin pants out, and he gasps when Jeno leans down to mouth at his neck again. “You’re infuriating,” Jaemin adds, and Jeno thrusts into him extra-hard. Jaemin pushes on Jeno’s chest, crawling out from under him and wincing a little as he feels Jeno slip out of him. “Sit up against the headboard.” Jeno likes where this is going so he does as he’s told, and Jaemin moves to climb on top of him, hesitating when he gets closer. 

“What do you want?” Jeno asks quietly, and he reaches for Jaemin’s waist before he realizes what he’s doing. Jaemin blinks at him, and something passes over him, but it’s fleeting and his stare hardens almost immediately after.

“I want you to _fuck me_ , Jeno,” Jaemin demands, shaking off whatever hesitance was there before and sitting down on Jeno’s cock again. His eyes roll back, but otherwise he doesn’t react. “Be useful. God.” Jeno scoffs, and he tightens his grip on Jaemin’s waist. 

“Like this?” He thrusts up into Jaemin hard, and Jaemin moans loudly, reaching past Jeno to grab at the headboard with one hand, throwing his head back. 

“Fuck,” is all Jaemin says, and then he moans again and Jeno thrusts harshly into him _again_. Jeno knows that Jaemin miscalculated this _bad_ ; Jaemin thought he’d regain some control over the situation by getting on top, but no way in hell is that happening, not if Jeno has anything to say about it. Jeno makes sure that Jaemin is aware of that, looking him in the eyes as he pulls him down on his cock. Jaemin looks away, feigning indifference.

But maybe _Jeno’s_ the one who miscalculated, because before long he realizes he’s dangerously close to cumming and when he stops fucking up into Jaemin, the other boy takes over, raising and lowering himself with increasing frequency.

“Jaemin, I’m gonna cum,” Jeno says eventually, his grip on Jaemin tightening even further, and Jaemin’s head drops onto his own chest. “Jaemin?”

“I heard you. You’re not the important one here, Jeno,” Jaemin says curtly, and he fucks himself down on Jeno’s cock a few more times.

“ _Jaemin,_ ” Jeno pleads, because if Jaemin doesn’t stop _he’s going to cum inside him_ , and finally Jaemin seems to understand that. Not that that prospect is entirely unwelcome to Jeno. 

“What, am I too much for you? Too tight? You can’t hold on til after I cum?” Jaemin asks, mockingly, and Jeno is so blinded by his desperation to cum and his simultaneous fear of what Jaemin will do if he cums in him that he can hardly respond. 

“Jaemin— Fucking _christ_ , _Jaemin_ _I’m going to cum_ —”

Jaemin rolls his eyes, and he smacks his ass down _hard_ once more against Jeno’s hips before lifting off of him. “How about now?” And this is even _worse_ , because Jeno needs to feel Jaemin around him at least once more to completely let go, and he looks at him desperately, praying Jaemin gets that message.

“You still want my hole, hmm?” Jeno gives Jaemin a pathetic, needy look, and Jaemin throws himself onto his back again, pulling his thighs up toward his chest. It takes Jeno about four seconds to be on top of him, fucking into him hard, and it’s exactly what he needs. Jaemin feels so _good._

Jeno pulls out of Jaemin at the last possible second that he can manage, cumming all over Jaemin’s stomach. Jaemin whimpers, and Jeno wraps a hand around him and then Jaemin’s cumming, too, and Jeno wants to fall on top of him but something in him says that Jaemin won’t like that. So he flops onto his stomach next to him, burying his face in the comforter and trying to catch his breath. He can feel Jaemin doing the same. He wants to— There are so many things he wants to do, but he can’t. He wants to kiss Jaemin, for real, he wants to hold him, he wants to come down from their orgasms together. 

He knows he can’t.

Jaemin doesn’t say a word, and Jeno knows he needs to leave, so he climbs gingerly out of bed. Jaemin watches him from the bed as he pulls his clothes back on, and he hopes that Jaemin can’t see the way his hands are shaking. 

It hurts. It fucking _hurts_ , leaving Jaemin like that, naked and sweaty and dirty and exhausted. He just wants to _take care_ of him. He wants to wipe him down, clean him up, hell, he’d tuck Jaemin into bed and kiss him on the forehead and he would still leave, if he just got to do that much. But he can’t. He _can’t,_ and it’s not himself stopping him, it’s Jaemin. 

He knows if he tries to do anything, he’ll never see Jaemin again.

So he walks away. He walks away, and he leaves Jaemin there, and everything in him is telling him it’s wrong, and it still hurts. Bad. But what choice does he have?

He can’t have all of Jaemin. He’ll take what he can get. 


End file.
